


Nothing More

by Antecanis



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:34:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25932940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antecanis/pseuds/Antecanis
Summary: Connor and Haytham's quarrelling has somehow developed into a more physical and intimate fight for power - an illicit entanglement that sated their desires. It was nothing more - or so Connor told himself.
Relationships: Haytham Kenway/Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor
Comments: 1
Kudos: 55





	Nothing More

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this six years ago (!), but never posted it on here. With this crazy year making us crave some more distraction, I thought it'd be a good time to revisit old drabbles and post this while I'm too busy to finish up my other stories right now (but soon!).

Their sex was always a struggle for power; a trial of strength; something close to the choreography of fighting. There were teeth and nails scraping over heated skin, sometimes followed by the apologetic lick of a tongue or dancing fingertips trailing the thin reddish lines on the other’s body.

As much as it was that fight, it was also an attempt to reconcile with each other, to merge and touch when skin on skin wasn’t enough. There was no talk about foolish things like love; there was no sentiment after their struggle had ended in a breathless moment of satisfaction, a truce between the fighters. Even their kisses were something hungry; a feral way to still their greed; a teeth-clacking battle.

No, Connor thought, this was not lovemaking, this was mere lust; desire without morals. Nothing more.

Bark scratched Connor’s bare back with every move they made. He was still struggling for regaining the upper hand, but secretly, Connor had accepted his defeat, and he did not complain about the other’s roughness. Rather, he concentrated on his father’s touch, and his loose, silvery hair tickling the Assassin’s skin as Haytham leaned down to sink his teeth into the younger man’s bronze skin. Connor threw back his head and gasped, his fingers clutching Haytham’s robe as he arched up against his father; hungry for the other’s touch, eager to show resistance as he knew the Templar liked it.

And Haytham moved against him; buried deep inside the Connor as he came; a low growl leaving his throat as he bucked up one last time and tightened his grip on his son before he sagged.

For a moment there was just the quiet of the early evening, occasionally disrupted by the sounds of the Homestead’s forest, and Connor listened to it as well as to their calming breath; to his own heartbeat slowing down. The other had pulled away by now, apparently waiting for Connor to get dressed again.

“What are you waiting for?”, Haytham eventually asked, raising an eyebrow at the young man. Connor had hesitantly reached out for his Assassin’s robes and eyed his father as if he still had something to say; watching as the older man closed his breeches and smoothed down his ruffled Templar coat.

It had been almost a year since their encounters had turned into sex, and Connor was still wondering how it could have happened at all. However, he had no intentions to stop it. It was, somehow, something that made his heart ache pleasantly; something he thought about in lonely moments, and in moments when Achilles reminded him that Haytham had to die. He did not dare to tell his father about this odd aching that made his heart feel full and yearning at the same time; guessing the other would just laugh at him for being so sentimental. Connor even feared their encounters might stop if he admitted having any feelings regarding their relationship at all. No, he thought, this was not lovemaking; this was sex and nothing more.

Connor bit the inside of his cheek as he pulled on his clothes again, ignoring the stinging of the scratches both from their struggle and the bark of the tree behind him; the wetness between his thighs oozing out of him. “Can’t I… stay with you for a bit longer?”, he eventually asked, averting his gaze to look down at the ground; instantly knowing he had made a mistake only by asking.

“Stay with me?”, Haytham let out, something like amusement audible in the low tone of his voice. Connor glanced up and caught the other's scrutinizing stare. “To do… what exactly? Hold your hand and whisper sweet words into each other’s ears as the night surrounds us? Heavens, I didn’t know you were so sentimental.”

Connor was hurt; and with a harsh movement he turned around. “Forget it.”, he said, his cheeks reddened by anger and embarrassment, wondering why he had even asked - he had known what his father would say about it.

With wobbly knees he vanished into the night; heading home, his thoughts however still with his father; telling himself once more that this thing they had was not lovemaking - so why should he stay after they had sated their mutual hunger? Yes, it was just hunger. Nothing more.

Weeks passed, months even and Connor did not ask to stay again, however, forcing himself to admit that he would like it; would like to remain for a moment with the other, not fighting, not fucking.

“Keep quiet or I will have to gag you.”, Haytham breathed out with annoyance; his voice barely audible in the nightly sounds of Boston’s busy streets. There were guards close by, whose weapons Connor could hear clink with every step they made. The young Assassin bit down hard on his knuckles in a desperate attempt to keep quiet and not anger his father any further, who seemed to be in a particularly bad mood this night. Connor had made the mistake of voicing a snarky remark about the other's frowny face, and had earned this: He was half-buried in the haystack; straw poking and tickling his face whenever he was pressed forward; his pants just barely pulled down as Haytham pushed into him from behind, not having put up with any of Connor’s usual struggle to end up on top.

It was quickly over that day; a rough yet pleasing encounter in the haystack, where they were almost discovered by the guards but managed to be quiet enough not to draw their attention after all.

When Connor had pulled up his breeches again, he proceeded to crawl from the hay. Before he could leave, however, a strong hand grabbed him and pulled him back. Haytham leaned over him and regarded him mildly as he pinned him down; and for a moment the young Assassin was rather confused; they had had sex, pleasing on both sides, so what did the Templar want? If he had wanted to talk to Connor about anything regarding their truce or any other plans, he would have met up with him at the Inn or would have come by the Homestead; not fucking the other in a haystack in the middle of Boston.

Seemingly amused by the other’s confusion, Haytham leaned down and placed a brief kiss to Connor’s lips, which the young man returned after a moment of hesitation.

“Is something wrong, father?”, he asked when they broke apart, guessing something might be up if Haytham was behaving so strangely; at first being in such a bad mood, and now pulling him back for a kiss that was neither a fight nor a gesture of hunger.

“Why would you ask that?”, the Grand Master replied but his tone gave away that he knew what the other meant.

Shaking his head a little, Connor tried to get up, not eager for any games if Haytham wasn’t willing to provide an answer. For a moment Haytham seemed to consider forcefully keeping his son down beneath him, but then he backed away and let Connor slip from his grip; however, not without picking a straw from the young man’s dark mane. Looking darkly at his father, Connor pulled the hood over his head and disappeared into the crowded streets of Boston. It wasn’t like he hadn’t wanted to stay; hadn’t wanted to indulge in a few more kisses, but alas! it was useless; this wasn’t lovemaking after all, this was sex. Nothing more.

After that encounter in the haystack, the Grand Master disappeared for almost two months from Connor's life - both professionally and personally. There was no message; no word on the street about the Templar's whereabouts. Connor couldn't admit it - neither to himself nor to any of the Homesteaders or Assassins; least of all Achilles - but he missed the Grand Master's presence. Even if his professional work seemed easier without Haytham's interference, Connor wished for the other's advice, harsh as it could be at times. He missed their secret encounters, too; the greedy kisses, the fighting, the lovem- _the sex._

Then, on a rainy evening, he got a short message from Haytham, demanding his presence at an Inn in which he hadn’t met the other before. Connor was thus careful; almost suspecting it to be a trap.

However, it was not. The Templar opened the door after Connor had knocked, and for a moment the Assassin hesitated; noticing the other’s pale face and the bandages that he could spot beneath Haytham’s shirt. It was suddenly becoming entirely clear why he hadn't heard from the Grand Master in weeks.

“It would be much appreciated if you would not just stand in the hallway and stare.”, Haytham remarked, and eventually Connor stepped inside the other’s room.

Before he could even ask what had happened, and why the other hadn't asked for his help, the Grand Master had already grabbed him and pressed him against the wall beside the door.

“Father, I don’t think -”

Silencing the other by placing his lips onto Connor’s for a rough kiss, Haytham moved forward against him; a leg pushing between the Assassin’s. Connor wasn’t too surprised to find them fighting again; moving against his father and eventually managing to push him away just to reverse their roles. He pressed the older man against the door; his eyes dark and wanting after weeks of being apart. Impatiently slipping his fingers beneath the Templar’s shirt, Connor sank his teeth into the sensitive skin of Haytham’s neck, not caring about the annoyed huff that the other gave at the attention. Pressing against his father, he could feel the older man’s cock against him; a sign that Haytham had missed their intimacy, too.

When Connor’s lips left Haytham’s skin for a moment, he sucked in the air greedily; softly grinding against the other to increase the pleasant friction between them. It made him ache for more, though he knew Haytham hated being teased like this. However, the Grand Master himself enjoyed it, too, to keep the young Assassin wanting; aching for more and forgetting about his pride when he whined for his father to take him.

With a growl, Haytham moved against the younger man; trying to regain control but unable to struggle free from Connor’s grip. The Assassin's hands where hungrily roaming over Haytham’s body by now; eventually reaching between them to rub the other’s cock through the thin layer of cloth; enjoying the low sounds he could force over his father’s lips.

Their way to the bed was a struggle, too. It was the usual fight for dominance, which Connor won this time, mostly due to Haytham’s injury that kept him from using his whole strength.

The young Assassin leaned over his father and nipped hungrily at the pale skin; enjoying every bit of unsuccessful resistance the other could muster.

After he had teased the Grand Master enough and up until Haytham swore to never bloody sleep with the Assassin again, Connor pulled the other’s breeches off. He didn't care about the sound of fabric tearing or about his father’s angry litany, which stopped as soon as Connor’s clever fingers curled around the other’s cock. Giving him a few good strokes, Connor enjoyed the knowledge of how Haytham liked to be touched; how he could practically have the Grand Master melt into a needy mess beneath him. It was a rare pleasure to have Haytham so pliant in his grip, and Connor savoured every moment of it.

Smiling vaguely to himself, the Assassin continued his movements, listening to the Grand Master’s gasps, and the moans that passed Haytham's lips no matter how much he tried to bite them back.

Before he granted Haytham release, Connor pulled away; rummaging through the other’s belt pouch that had been resting on the narrow nightstand, searching for the vial of oil he knew the Templar kept in there. When he had found it, he returned to Haytham, who glared at him; however not having moved an inch in Connor’s absence.

“I am certainly not going to -”, the older man started, but was instantly silenced as Connor poured some cold oil over his erection and ran his thumb teasingly slow over it, flicking it over the tip just to hear another sound from his father’s lips.

“I’m not going to take you. This time.”, Connor said with amusement; loving the way Haytham hated but still accepted his defeat. “However, for the record, I clearly won -”

Snorting, Haytham shook his head slowly. “As if it was a fight to be won!”

“Isn’t it?”, Connor asked, honestly rather surprised Haytham did not seem to understand it this way. But his father didn’t answer; just tugged at the boy to get on with it. Connor did as the other implied wordlessly; sitting up on top of the other; reaching around himself to slide an oily finger into himself. Even though Haytham had never voiced it, Connor was rather sure that he liked it; liked to watch the young Assassin fuck himself with his fingers and prepare himself for the Grand Master’s cock. Haytham’s eyes were glassy as they followed his son’s movements greedily; his own cock craving for attention; craving for the heat and tightness of the young man’s body.

Eventually, when he was panting and prepared thoroughly, Connor aligned himself with Haytham’s cock and sank down on him; pressing the older man down onto the bed as he fucked himself raptly; a steady rhythm of pushing himself up and then forcefully down onto the other.

Low moans passed Connor’s lips, and when Haytham reached up to give the young man’s cock a few strokes while his other hand held tightly onto the boy’s hips, the Assassin’s sounds grew wanton and needy. His heart was full and swelling still - he had missed this; not just the act in itself - but the way Haytham's attention made him feel; the way the other's gaze rested on him, his hands felt on his skin, their bodies entangled as if their lives, could be, too. It was a steady, beautiful rhythm; a delightful and intoxicating union. The stimulation finally pushed Connor over the edge as he could feel Haytham come inside of him; the Grand Master trembling and gasping beneath him as the orgasm hit him.

Connor sagged on top of his father, trying to catch his breath and knowing he would have to go soon, no matter how tempting it seemed to just cuddle up to Haytham and fall asleep like this. But this wasn’t lovemaking, this was raw sex, nothing more.

After a moment of silence solely filled with their heavy breath slowly calming down, Connor attempted to get up, his knees still rather weak, but not wanting his father to complain about his weight on him after he had gained enough breath to mock his son.

“Don’t you… want to stay a bit longer?”, Connor could hear his father say and he turned around to look at Haytham; wanting to reassure himself he truly had heard right and wasn't imagining things.

He hesitated for just a tiny moment but more out of confusion than because of the question itself. Then he slipped under the blanket his father offered him, and was instantly pleasantly surrounded by Haytham’s scent and the lingering scent of sex. Haytham turned off the oil lamp and nestled back next to his son. They were silent for a moment; and the young man simply savoured this different kind of closeness; the warmth and the feeling of something close to peace.

“It’s more than just sex, isn't it?”, Connor asked after a long while, his voice small as he wasn’t sure if he would destroy the moment and get Haytham to throw him out. However, the Templar was quiet for a long while; maybe thinking about it for the first time.

“No, this isn’t just about sex.”, the Grand Master replied after a while.

Connor pressed his face against his father's neck and smiled. “So you do care for me after all.”

“Don’t push your luck.”, Haytham growled but didn’t pull away.

Yes, Connor thought as he closed his eyes and listened to his father's heartbeat, this was so much more than just sex.


End file.
